


Because I Know No Other Way

by GraciousK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Comfort/Angst, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Dean-Centric, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Frottage, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Season/Series 01, Pre-Stanford, Sad Ending, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraciousK/pseuds/GraciousK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, </em>
  <br/>
  <em>in secret, between the shadow and the soul. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I Know No Other Way

"Sammy," Dean groaned into his brother's shoulderblade. His body was flush against Sam's back, his left arm curled underneath the weight of Sam's body, right forearm resting against Sam's hip, right hand wrapped loosely around Sam's hard cock. Dean's own dick was squeezed tight between Sam's lube-slick thighs. 

Dean had bought the lube special, a whole bottle just for this, having read that there was no such thing as too much lubrication. He'd popped the cap with a smirk and a joke, but even he had to admit that it felt  _good_. Their groping had coated them both from navel to knees. Nestled into his brother from behind, it was the easiest thing in the world for Dean to slot his dick into the slippery fold between Sam's thighs. Sam was already squirming and moaning like he was close, and Dean wasn't far behind.

"I could come like this," Dean offered.

"No. Do it," Sam gasped. "I want it."

Dean took his right hand off of Sam and gripped the base of his own dick, angling it up into the cleft between Sam's cheeks. Sam adjusted too, shifting and speading his legs. Dean teased his cockhead over the entrance to Sam's body, applying gentle gliding pressure without penetrating. "Say that again," Dean growled.

"I _want_ it," Sam whined, arching into Dean's body.

"Then hold still." Dean adjusted his grip and his hips to line himself up just right, applying steady pressure until he felt Sam's flesh begin to yield. "Tell me if it's too much," he breathed, hesitating.

"Do it."

Dean pressed on. Inch by inch he sunk into the heat of his brother's body. Dean's guiding hand fell away from his own cock and moved to hold Sam close, to remove the distance between them. And then he was in to the hilt, his face buried in the scruff at the back of Sam's neck. It didn't feel too different from the inside of a woman - wet and hot - except that this was  _Sammy_. Nothing could be more terribly wrong or more perfectly right.

Dean forced himself to hold still. "You okay?"

Sam's impatiently rocking hips answered for him. As Sam worked himself on Dean's cock, Dean realized that Sam was stroking himself too, and it was all Dean could do just to hold on. Dean lost himself completely in the overwhelming flood of sensation: the needy grind of Sam's hips, the salt of Sam's sweat, the desperate noises spilling from Sam's mouth, the wet sounds of their quickening movements, the incredible sucking tightness around his cock.

Dean was so far gone he didn't even realize he was thrusting until Sam yelped. Dean instinctively stilled, just for a second but long enough for Sam to start begging: "Don't- don't stop. Dean, don't stop."

And Dean lost it. He drove deep into Sam, not holding anything back, reveling in how Sam flexed and hollered in response. Dean had heard those cries before, had felt Sam's body convulse like this countless times skin-on-skin, but for the first time Dean could _feel_ Sam's orgasm: a rippling, clenching tightness around his cock.

Dean's fingers dug mindlessly into Sam's skin, arms tightening to pin Sam in place. He couldn't stop his hips from bucking quick and sharp, couldn't hold back his moans of "Sammy, oh, Sammy, fuck, _Sammy_." He slammed his hips forward to finish -  _finally_ , after all these years - inside his brother, where he belonged.

Dean shouted, then shuddered, then stilled. He came to rest with his cheek against the meat of Sam's back, one arm trapped between their bodies and the bed, the other loose around his brother's waist. Their bodies were still connected, still one flesh. Dean leaned into the rise and fall of Sam's chest and half-remembered a line of poetry from some sappy Robin Williams flick:  _...so close that you close your eyes when I fall asleep._  Tears flooded his eyes, but for the first time in Dean's life, he didn't care.

He was content to lie there until Sam stirred, a small shift in his hips that was just enough to dislodge Dean's softening dick. The automatic tightening of smooth muscle took its course, and Dean popped right out. Sam gasped at the sudden void.

The sharp sound woke the old familiar worry in Dean's gut. "You alright?" Dean slid his palm up Sam's exposed side in an attempt at comfort. 

Sam responded by reaching across his body to cover Dean's hand with his own. Their fingers naturally entwined together, trading the slightest caresses with tiny movements of their fingertips. Despite the reassuring gesture, a pit began forming in the hollow of Dean's stomach. The longer the silence stretched between them, the more he felt like he had to say something, the less he knew what to say.

It came out as an awkward joke: "So, was it everything you hoped it would be?"

Dean knew it was a bad move from the second the words left his mouth. He felt it in the cast of Sam's shoulders and the slack of his fingers, and heard it in the dullness of Sam's forced chuckle. "Pretty much," Sam assured him unconvincingly. He squeezed Dean's hand before rolling off the bed. "I'm gonna go clean up. Man, this stuff gets everywhere," Sam said lightly, rubbing at the smears of lube on his belly as he turned away. He snagged his undershorts off the ground and headed into the bathroom. The light clicked on, followed by the sound of running water.

The insincere banter was part of the routine by now, a step on the path back to whatever passes for "normal" in their fucked-up lives. This time it made Dean feel sick. A minute ago he was close enough to feel Sam's heartbeat in his own body. Now Sam was putting himself back together on the other side of a closed door, and Dean had to figure out how to do the same.

It was a lot harder now that he knew what it felt like to be whole.

-

After Sam left for Stanford, during a mind numbing afternoon at the library (on Dad's orders, _of course_ ), Dean charmed a librarian into helping him look up that poem. He retreated into the stacks to read it, 

After Dean read the poem, he read it again.

He blinked away the tears that came to his eyes.

Then he read it again. 

Dean barely spared a glance to check for the librarian before he tore the page out of the book, folded it neatly, and tucked it into his inner jacket pocket. The rest of the book he left among the pile of historical bullshit he'd been paging through. 

He winked and smiled at the librarian as he left, and drank himself to sleep that night.

-

 **Sonnet XVII**  
by Pablo Naruda

 _I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_  
_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._  
_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_  
_in secret, between the shadow and the soul._  
  
_I love you as the plant that never blooms_  
_but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;_  
_thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,_  
_risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body._  
  
_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._  
_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_  
_so I love you because I know no other way_  
  
_than this: where I does not exist, nor you,_  
_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_  
_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._


End file.
